


Lambskin and Wolfpelt

by YaoiMeowmaster



Category: Anthropomorfic, Anthropomorphism, Furry (Fandom)
Genre: Amputee, Anthro, Biting, Disability, Disfigurement, Eyepatch, Fantasy, Forbidden Love, Furry, Future, Hard vore, M/M, Romance, Starvation, Vore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-28
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-10-25 01:24:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10753845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YaoiMeowmaster/pseuds/YaoiMeowmaster
Summary: In a world where every animal has a blessing that lets them fight for survival, falling behind can prove fatal. Working together, two unlikely friends -one a half blind sheep that can regrow his limbs, the other a wolf who can't hunt for his life- find within themselves a spark for life that can't be extinguished.





	Lambskin and Wolfpelt

**Author's Note:**

> So this was inspired by a short story and mini comic I did a few years ago with these OC's that I decided to go back to. I'm not sure how much attention this will get on here, considering its not part of any particular existing fandom, but I like storing stuff here anyway. 
> 
> This is one of the first multi chapter fics that hasn't been part of a NaNoWriMo Project in almost 5 years, so I'm hoping that I can keep up with updates anyway, although it will be a little tough. 
> 
> Regardless, I hope you enjoy this, it will definitely get explicit soon and have tons of violence, and feedback is always appreciated!

Volori Delaine was proud of his hoofs. They were sturdy and they were reliable. Without them, Volori wouldnt have been able to bound across the grass with the fierce urgency that he raced with now. They stomped against the grass and dirt, crushing tiny sprouts and saplings in his haste. Volori’s hoofs had been his savior on many occasions, one of which had transpired a mere 5 minutes ago, when a fearsome wolf had pounced upon him, tearing away his right arm at the shoulder joint.

The wolf had been a savage beast, vicious…but stupid. Any intelligent predator would have used one of their blessings and gone for the heart or throat, vital areas that would result in an instantaneous kill. But the wolf had been careless, perhaps desperate if they were so hungry they ignored the steps of proper procedure. The agony Volori felt when his shoulder had snapped and his muscles torn was catastrophic and had made him see stars. Still, the wolf had ignored Volori after this, scarfing down the meat of the arm long enough for Volori lift his leg and connect a hoof to his black snout.

Volori panted hard as he reached the pasture where the rest of his flock lived, slowing his pace to a trot. His arrival made the others look up from their idle wandering, staring at the stump where his left arm would have been. There was silence for a moment as Volori averted their eyes and tried to cover the wound,but it was too late. A din of distressed bleating erupted as concerned members of the flock started to come forth, all asking what had happened. Volori didn’t feel like discussing it right now. While he would be more than eager to brag about his triumph over the wolf later, he was too dizzy and distressed to even speak.

“I’m fine, I’m fine!” he chattered to the crowd of cousins and uncles and brothers and sisters. “I can take care of it by myself!” Volori galloped to the tool shed and boarded the door behind him.

“Someone tell Gloria-” said a voice from behind the locked shed and Volori groaned softly. He heard the padding of hooves on the grass as his flock stepped away to alert his aunt, Gloria, of her nephew’s near brush with death. That goat was probably going to try to make something “nourishing” for Volori to regain his strength faster, which would likely be a meal of baking soda, chili peppers, honey, hay, coconut oil and a pinch of gun powder.

Volori fumbled blindly in the darkness and managed to get his hand on the valve of an oil lamp on the shelf above him and he turned it, bringing light to the room. There were shovels, rakes and pitchforks leaning against the wall next to a particularly dusty bag of dog food. Their last sheepdog had chased a fox out into the forest a week ago, but had never returned. These things happened sometimes.

Next to the bag of dog food was a barrel of water, which Volori went to eagerly, splashing the water striders off the surface and scooping it to his lips. His lungs still burned from his run, not to mention the terrible screams he had let out earlier. Beads of water dribbled down his chin, wetting a clump of pink wool jutting out from his chest. The water wasn’t cold, but it was refreshing nonetheless. As he drank the water, he was careful not the get the bandages covering the left side of his face too wet. As he pulled his hand away, however, there was a thin sheen of muddy colored blood on his fingers. It seemed that it was time to change the bandages anyway.

Volori Delaine, like all sheep in this time, had the wondrous ability of being able to magically heal nearly any injury. While any other animal would have instantly fainted from shock and loss of blood at having their limbs torn from their body, a sheep might still scream in pain, but inside feel an almost eerily calming voice tell them “It’s alright, the pinky on that one was a little too short anyway”. And in time, the damage would reverse, and their flesh, bone and muscle, would return.

That was how it was supposed to work anyway, as long as the heart wasn’t damaged. Yet, Volori gingerly removed the bandages covering the left portion of his face and winced. He turned away from the water in the barrel, not wanting to look into the unhidden reflection. He knew what was behind the bandages.

Where his left eye should have been was only a dark, hollow socket which, to Volori’s constant disgust, sometimes oozed and wet the bandages as a young maiden would stain her panties with blood. Surrounding the eye socket, were vicious claw marks and small dents in his face, where teeth had sunken into his face, as though some wicked creature had bitten him over and over again without mercy. This side of his face was an angrily splotchy red, looking particularly grotesque at the moment. And it was starting to flare up again. Not being able to properly heal, it had gone backwards in progress, blood starting to bubble up.

Volori chose not to dwell on the past at this time, and calmly picked up a roll of bandages and gauze, freshly covering his face wrapping it back up again. He stretched out the roll of bandages and tore strips off deftly by holding one end in between his teeth, and flicking his wrist in one direction before carefully laying the bandages over his wounds.

Aside from the half of his face that made him seem fit to star in a haunted house, Volori was quite cute. He had brilliantly light pink, woolly hair, arranged in cotton-candy like balls not only on his head, but around his wrists and ankles as well. The parts of him that didn’t have pink wool, were a light gray down, excepting a stripe of lavender on his nose, which extended to his ears. Unusual for a sheep, they almost always pointed straight upright, leading people to often ask if he were a rabbit. Finally, small white freckles dotted across his cheeks, underneath large and very bright, happy, blue eyes.

Volori cautiously lifted the board keeping the shed shut and pushed the door open a crack. With some difficulty, he tried to look outside with his one good eye to see if there were any predators that had managed to wander this far out of the woods. He thought, with a twinge of regret, that he should have kicked up a lot more dust while he was running away to try to hide his scent, or at least taken a more zigzag path out of the woods to confuse his attacker. He blew air between his lips and rolled his eye with a smirk. What did that matter? He probably would have ended up in more trouble with all those theatrics as opposed to hauling his butt straight back to the open field.

Besides, even if a predator dared to chase him out of the forest and across the field, the commotion would surely get the attention of the trigger happy shepherd, even in his house, and he would come out with half of his pants on, blasting wildly.

Volori used the sunlight to better examine himself. He was still covered in soil and blood, but the bandages on his face were fresh and clean and his stump of a shoulder was wrapped completely, looking very neat. He leaned over to this side and sniffed gently, then smiled. Yes, his skin had already started to form over again over the wound, and there was no longer a lingering aroma of blood in the air. His cottony tail, flopped up and down in glee as he jogged out to go mingle with the rest of his flock.

*****

Afime Starf had just finished the delicious limb he had torn from the lamb, which was now nothing more than bones on the ground, picked clean. Despite having finally made a successful hunt, he felt awful. Now that he had a taste for food, he felt even hungrier. His belly was only half full and it was rumbling in anger that the sustenance had suddenly stopped.

“Oh Teni…” said Afime softly, bringing his knees up to his face and hugging them, lowering his snout. “Thank you so much for that meal…Please- Please let me find more.” He prayed, his voice rough with desperation and dripping with hunger.

Teni, or “Teni the Many” as she was better known, was the Patron Deity and ancestress for all living wolves. Not all wolves prayed to her, some even outright snorted at the idea of her existence, dismissing it as a legend to tell to young cubs to get them to sleep, but Afime was particularly steadfast in his faith. It seemed to be that just when Afime was starting to think all would be lost that something amazing would be bestowed upon him to allow him to keep moving on. Often times, it was food. Others, it was puddle of water, or a soft bed of leaves. It wasn’t that Afime thought Teni was actually manifesting these things for him specifically, but more so that she gently guided him to find these resources he would had otherwise missed.

He stayed in that position for a moment before he relaxed, stretching out his legs again and rising to his feet.

Afime was tall and very skinny wolf, with a long tail that had a wiry, broom like tip and dark blue fur all over his body. His forearms and lower legs were covered in a thicker, lighter blue fur, making it look as though he was wearing winter, knee-high socks and formal dressing gloves to every occasion. Afimes eyes were wide and haunted, with a small beady black pupil set in the middle of them.

He adjusted the belt on his tunic, loosening the grip a bit now that he had gotten a little bit of food in his belly. The lamb that had gotten away couldn’t have possibly fled very far. On the other hand, Afime’s nose still rang with the shadow of pain from being kicked so hard and he concluded that those sharp hooves probably could have gotten the lamb possibly miles away indeed. He sniffed the air anyway, trying to see if he could catch a trace of him.

There was still the scent of lingering blood in the air, thanks to the blood dripped onto the ground, but it was fading fast. He remembered his mother’s words with some embarrassment. “Always go for a kill, if you manage to tear off a limb, leave it there, you can collect it when you’re done. Even if another scavenger tries to grab it, you’ll have more meat in the end if you finish the job.”

Afime had been so desperate for food, that he had started eating the lamb’s arm directly in front of him which was probably what gave him the last burst of strength and fear to let him get away. Foolish! He deserved this pang of pain he felt in his muzzle for being so savage and not thinking straight. But that hardly mattered right now, it had already been done of course. He stalked forward through the woods, tail swishing low above the ground as he started to track the smell again.

“Better keep that one eye open, little lamb.” Muttered Afime as he trudged noisily through the bushes. “And get ready to lose more than an arm this time.” His stomach grumbled in gleeful anticipation at the prospect of such a fine and fulfilling meal.


End file.
